Grinding away WIN!

The attic had possibly 500 pages of receipts for medical procedures, but almost nothing in the way of actual medical records - reason #7,258 why American healthcare needs fixing: nobody cares about the information but boy, do they care about payment.

SO: Having found an immunization record from when I got booster shots at UMass in 1988, I went to a clinic and bought me some shots. I called up the Harvard Medical Records Office person who takes care of Special Student stuff and she told me exactly what she needed to see, so I got that. I'm now booster'ed for Tdap & MMR, got a HepB (even though I'm pretty sure I got the whole sequence when I was pregnant with child #2), and got a meningitis vaccine just in case, because there were a couple outbreaks of things last year.

Clinic doctor bemused at Harvard requiring all this. Said things about Dartmouth. Hee.

My registration is now DONE. On to Study Cards (whatever that means) (I think it's the course registration paperwork that I turn in after "shopping period" is done). I'm thinking about taking the super-scary Neurobiology course, and more seriously considering a course on synaptic plasticity and another on the neurobiology of perception. Whee!!!

Ran a little over a mile this morning - go, me! Biked 15 miles yesterday morning, which was kind of by accident but still a good thing. Legs were pretty sore after that, so I iced my knees a little and that seemed to help a bit. Then I took oldest to the track way late last night and did some sprints and easy jogging, and that fixed me right up! All better; just needed to run very fast. Weird, but glad to have woken up with much happier legs.

Today was going to be a beach day, but a) I had to spend a bunch of time doing shots and all that, and b) it keeps raining. Feh.

The roofers are still roofing away, stopping when the monsoons come. They really want to get the job done so they can get paid. This is good.

New shoes that fit and feel and look fabulous arrived today! Yay! Still waiting for some running clothes to arrive.

Dh was once asked by a friend what to do to train for the Boston Marathon. Since dh had coached an Olympic hurdler (as well as many other athletes), he had some useful things to say (with a sigh, of course - I think anything he knew, he somehow felt should be general knowledge). I've been remembering what he told T. about how to train. It's a pleasant, unexpected kind of echo, as is riding his (very nice!) mountain bike. The bike has more gears than I've ever used in my life and is clearly customized up the wazoo for serious trail-riding. This is more than I need, but it's one of the only bikes in the barn that's not a kids' one, so on I go. I'll need a new seat, because the one on there makes my butt hurt. Sore butt = misery.

And so it goes. Some dusty digging out of paper, fixing things, adjusting for what I need: weaving in little pieces of memory so they shine instead of hurt. I keep going, and get stronger, and now and then I seem to have accomplished something.